


Gifts of Time and Love

by FaramirsBlessing



Series: Shishou and His Waif [3]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Hiko listens to stories, Kenshin is a baby christian, Other, Smol Kenshin, why do all my stories have soup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8871838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaramirsBlessing/pseuds/FaramirsBlessing
Summary: Kenshin tells Hiko about a religious celebration that his family used to practice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend and I have a head canon that little baby Kenshin was a secret Christian, given the crosses he decorated all the graves he made with. It's weird he did that since Japanese graves are usually marked with stones (to my understanding). Anyhow, I thought it would be cute to have Kenshin mention Christmas and his family's super casual celebration of it. Even if Kenshin's family was Christian, I highly doubt they practiced devoutly. 
> 
> Also - I'm NOT forcing religion onto any of the characters in this story. Honestly, I could honestly care less. I just thought this was a cute idea
> 
> Also - Kenshin's constant guilt reminds me of my own. (Born from Catholicism and crippling depression.) xD

**************************

“Shishou.” 

It was a cold winter morning, and Hiko was sitting by the fire, adding ingredients to the soup with measured care. He turned to see Kenshin standing by his side, his small hand entwined in his cape. Hiko pulled his hand away with an annoyed groan - he was going to have to teach the boy not to be so clingy. 

“What is it, Kenshin?” 

“I think it’s almost Christmas, Shishou.” 

Hiko frowned down at his apprentice. Kenshin hadn't been here for long - little over three months - but he’d made much improvement during this time. He was no longer skin and bones, his wounds had healed, and he had a somewhat healthy appetite. Hiko hadn't began training the kid yet though, given that it was freezing and Kenshin was still relatively frail. He’d have to be careful for a while. 

But today Kenshin was eager and now his eyes were shining with a curious sort of light. What the hell. . .? 

“Christmas?” Hiko said. “What are you talking about?” 

“You know, Shishou,” Kenshin said, seating himself close to Hiko, angling his small body so he’d be sandwiched between the warmth from the fire and his master’s large body. “Christmas. Jesus’ birthday.”  
Hiko just blinked. 

“Jesus. . .?” 

Kenshin nodded, his blood-red ponytail bouncing against his back. 

“Yeah. Jesus. God.” 

Oh. Oh. Ohhhh! 

“So you’re a Christian, Kenshin?” Hiko said. Great, not only had he picked up a brat, but one that practiced a strictly controlled and persecuted religion. Ugh. What a pain.

“I don’t know what that means, Shishou.” 

Hiko turned to his apprentice, his eyebrows raised. 

“You don’t know what a Christian is?” When Kenshin shook his head, Hiko snorted. “Baka.” 

“Hey!” Kenshin yelled and he rose to his knees, fisting his hands into his hakama. “Don’t call me that! Tell me what a Christian is!!” 

“Sit down, Kenshin,” Hiko ordered, and he pushed the little boy down with ease, glaring at him. “And don’t speak to your master in such a way. It is very disrespectful.” 

Kenshin huffed. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. Hiko snorted - he sure didn't sound sorry. But this was preferable to the scared little boy that had come home with him at first, always apologizing, crying, and shaking. Now Kenshin was a little spitfire. He was energetic and asked a million questions and loved to play. However, much to Hiko’s annoyance, the boy could be disrespectful and angry. What good would a brat who wouldn't listen to instructions be? Hiko needed to fix that too. 

“A Christian,” Hiko said after a few minutes of silence, “is someone who believes that a man named Jesus Christ is the son of God.” 

“Oh!” Kenshin’s face lit up. “Mother and Father told me that Jesus is God’s son!” 

“So you are a Christian?” 

“I didn't know there was a word for it!” Kenshin cried. “Cool! So I’m a Christian!” 

“No,” Hiko said. “You are not anymore.” 

“Huh? But you just said-” 

“You are no longer a Christian, Kenshin. I have nothing against them, but Christians are treated badly in this country. I would not be one of them, if I were you.” 

“People are mean to them?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh.” Kenshin’s face fell and, with a sinking stomach, Hiko saw the dark shadow that Kenshin initially had first come home with creep onto his face. Hiko hastened to fix what damage he had caused - he’d give anything not to see that look on his apprentice’s face ever again. All it reminded him of was suffering and the slave trade and the too-small boy with bloody hands surrounded by hand-dug graves. 

“Tell me about Christmas, Kenshin,” he said with a sigh. 

Kenshin raised his head and Hiko was relieved to see that the shadow on his little pale face had retreated a bit. 

“Really? But-”

“Tell me, Kenshin,” Hiko interrupted. “I’m interested.” 

“You are, Shishou?” 

“Yes. Now tell me.” 

“Okay.” Kenshin sat up straight and began to speak, using his hands to further his points. Hiko needed to get rid of that habit - it was distracting and annoying. But he let Kenshin use it for now - he was only eight, after all. 

And so he listened patiently as Kenshin began to ramble.

“Christmas is when Jesus was born. We celebrated it in winter cause he was born in winter. He was actually born a different country with lots of desert. It doesn’t snow there, but apparently it still got really cold. His mom had him in a stable and she put him in a bunch of hay and all the sheep and cows kept him warm. A bunch of shepherds and m-magi,” he stumbled over this word, “came and brought Jesus songs and presents. Everyone was very happy.” 

“Ah, is that so?” 

Kenshin nodded eagerly, a big smile on his face. 

“Yep!” 

Hiko tried to suppress his own smile at the boy’s joy and poured the now finished soup into bowls for both of them.

“And how did you celebrate this Christmas of yours?” he asked, as he handed Kenshin his smaller bowl. Kenshin took it with a nod and a little bow of thanks. 

“We ate special food and got presents,” Kenshin said. He shoveled a big piece of fish into his mouth. 

“Is that so?” Hiko asked. 

“Yeah,” Kenshin said around the fish. Hiko glared at him. 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Kenshin.” 

“Sorry,” Kenshin said, his mouth still full of fish. Hiko rolled his eyes and returned to his soup. 

“This Jesus, is he the one who died on that cross-like shape?” 

“Yeah,” Kenshin answered after swallowing. Hiko was surprised to see the sudden seriousness in his eyes. “They c-crucified him. On the cross.” 

“Did they?” Hiko asked. He was only half-listening to the boy now, focused as he was on how hungry he was, and his mind drifted to what he was going to teach Kenshin today. Probably how to read- 

He jumped when he felt Kenshin’s hands on his wrists. He looked down at the boy, who had laid his soup aside and was leaning forward, peering up into Hiko’s face with his piercing, serious violet eyes. 

“They hurt him, Shishou,” he said, his voice hushed. “They put nails in his wrists, here.” Kenshin tapped his little fingers against the base of Hiko’s wrist, and Hiko, despite himself, shivered. He did not believe in this God of the Christians, but that did not mean that cruxifixction was by any means a pleasant death. “Nails in his wrists and feet. And a crown of thorns on his head.” Kenshin touched his brow. “Father told me there was a lot of blood. So much blood. . .” His hand fell.

Much to Hiko’s distress, the boy’s eyes grew dark - he was reliving the massacre again. Hiko flipped the boy’s hands on his wrists around so that he was now holding Kenshin’s hands in his own. Kenshin looked up at him and blinked. 

“Kenshin,” Hiko said, “everything’s fine. And your God, this Jesus, didn't he come back to life?” 

Kenshin nodded and his hands twitched in Hiko’s own. 

“Yeah. Three days later.” 

“Ah, three days, hmm?” 

“Yeah.” Kenshin stared at Hiko, his eyes not moving from his face, focusing on him like he was an anchor. “Three is a holy number.” 

Hiko sighed. He had no idea what the hell Kenshin was talking about, but he knew he really needed to help this kid move on. A flicker of something burned in Hiko’s chest and a thought popped into his mind. 

“Three is holy, hmm?” He squeezed Kenshin’s hands once more before letting go and returning to his soup. “And how long have you been here, Kenshin?” 

“I don’t know, Shishou.” 

“You’ve been here almost three months.” 

Kenshin blinked. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, indeed.” 

“So you’re holy. . .?” 

“What? Don’t be stupid, kid. I’m just telling you that maybe your Christmas is today, since you believe that three is such a special number.” 

“Today is Christmas?” 

Hiko shrugged. 

“If you want it to be,” he said. “I don’t care.” 

Kenshin abandoned his soup and launched himself at Hiko, tossing his arms around the man’s neck and hugging him tight. Hiko let out quite the undignified yelp of surprise and was about to push the little waif off of him when the boy’s warm breath tickled his ear. 

“Merry Christmas, Shishou,” Kenshin said, his voice hardly above a whisper. “You’re the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.” 

Hiko’s heart did an annoying little flip, and, despite himself, he returned Kenshin’s hug, pulling the twig-like boy close to his chest. 

“Merry Christmas, Kenshin.” 

****************************************** 

“Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.” -Peg Bracken


End file.
